


A Soft and Elegant Semaphore

by InsidiousIntent



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alien Biology, All Hallows' Roswell, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brief depiction of violence against Alex, Clueless boys are clueless, I made Max a good bro, M/M, Magic, Michael is a soft boyfriend, Romance, alex is an unreliable narrator, because why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 00:23:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20898578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsidiousIntent/pseuds/InsidiousIntent
Summary: Roswell New Mexico is moving forward. Alex Manes is not.





	A Soft and Elegant Semaphore

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second entry for All Hallows' Roswell event and the fic that has been eating my brain. The prompt for this one is Possession. 
> 
> My eternal gratitude to [estel_willow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/estel_willow/pseuds/estel_willow) and [beamirang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beamirang/pseuds/beamirang) who have heard me whining about this all week, and Hannah for making this fic presentable. 
> 
> And to the rest of the crew, who had to put up with my abandonment of everything else to write this. You are all my favorite people <3

* * *

It was the kind of day that required a solid sartorial armor before venturing out into the world, and Alex had spent the last six months cultivating an entire wardrobe. The neutral oversized clothing he had hid under since his return to Roswell was now solidly folded and packed away in space bags, replaced with deeper hues of navies and burgundies. 

He moved to pick the black wool coat, draping it over his arms. While he was never overjoyed about these occasional visits to Master Sergeant Jesse Manes, he had kind of resigned himself to the reality of spending a lot of time around people (and things) who had tried to kill him. 

Michael meanwhile, when Alex arrived at Max’s, took the news of Alex visiting Jesse with his usual good humor. “Oh I get it, this is some La Familia food chain kind of bullshit. Keep your friends close, enemies closer. Where do you think mortal nemeses hell-bent on erasing your existence from the planet falls on that spectrum?”

Over the years, Alex has learned to roll with the punches Michael has thrown at him, verbally and otherwise. He has learned which questions are just rhetorical jabs thrown around as a coping mechanism, and which - mostly out of self-preservation - signal a burgeoning idea in that genius brain that may or may not signal impending chaos and possible explosions. 

Alex decided to move the conversation to a less risky direction. “Got a call from Max, he wanted help with something?” 

Michael was lounged at Max’s house in some homemade sweater monstrosity that had too many colors to count but was apparently _ too comfortable to throw away, Manes. _ In contrast to the softness of the fabric, Michael’s face looked sharper than usual. 

Alex felt a semblance of pride at the way he kept his expression neutral at the sight of Michael. It had been sixteen weeks since Max came back to them, and sixteen weeks since Alex decided to take the olive branch Michael offered him through his friendship. The alternative of not having Michael in his life at all wasn’t something he ever wanted to experience, so he was determined to make this work. 

Max walked in that moment and saved Alex from having to make more of an idiot of himself. Michael turned and walked into the kitchen and fell upon the coffee like it had all the questions he had been asking. Max meanwhile was already fully dressed and ready for the day. He nodded at Alex and gestured at him to have a seat at the counter. 

Max didn’t waste any time getting to the point, something Alex deeply appreciated. “Alex, I need your help with a case Jenna and I have been working on for the past few days.” He dropped a file on the counter, that Alex pulled to him. “Missing persons,” Max continued, “over the last four weeks, three individuals have gone missing and there is no connection between them except they were all last seen at the Roswell museum.” 

Alex nodded and started reading the file, keeping an ear on Max. “One of the missing, Jim Peterson, worked at Cannon base and has been seen with you around town. The other two, Corina Aguilar and Rachel Alvarez, are local women. Is there anything you can share about Jim that can help us?”

Alex was stunned. He hadn’t known Jim very well, but they had worked together on a few projects since his return to Roswell and he was just another regular guy with a family and a desk job. There was nothing extraordinary about Jim. 

“I have no idea what would make Jim disappear like that. But if you want, I can help you dig deeper.”

Max nodded like this was the response he had been hoping for. “Good, I was going to review the footage this morning and then head over there after lunch. How about we meet over there and see if there is some Project Shepherd connection we are missing?”

“Sounds good. Other than the whole alien connection, is there another reason why we’re meeting at 7am?”

Max huffed. “There is apparently a fundraising event tomorrow night, so the mayor made a call to the sheriff.” 

Alex shrugged and rose from the counter, giving the file back to Max. “Ok well, I’ll join you after I go visit the Master Sergeant.” 

***

Sixteen weeks ago, Jesse Manes had tried to kill Michael, Max, and Isobel for trying to bring _ blight upon the world _. And when Alex had successfully stopped his batshit alien bomb plan, his father had turned all his murderous intent on Alex and his team. The US AIr Force hadn’t taken very kindly to this, and the arrest and subsequent court martial/sentencing had been swift and crushing. His superiors weren’t too happy with Alex’s requests to meet with his father in prison, but Alex knew there was decades worth of information hidden in that twisted brain. 

So once in a while, Alex went out to see his father and see if he could gather another kernel of truth. The guard walked him over to the specially designated meeting area where Jesse Manes sat shackled to a counter.

“Alex.”

“Master Sergeant. I see you’re doing well.” 

“They’re offering vocational training here now, maybe I’ll become a carpenter in my next life.” 

Alex refused to let the surprise show on his face, but his father smirked with the confidence of a well-placed hit. He made a mental note to revisit the security protocols placed on his father as part of his imprisonment. 

“I’m sure that will be more successful than your past life.” 

“Good to see you haven’t lost your manners, Alex. So what news of the world did you come here to share with me today?”

Alex wordlessly slid a photograph over the counter. Even the anticipation of the reaction did not prepare him to witness the color draining from his father’s face. He sat there for a moment waiting, letting his father grieve in peace. 

“We got him dad. I’m sorry it had to be this way,” Alex said in a quiet voice. His father merely nodded then closed his eyes. No father wants to outlive his children, and Jesse was not an exception to this rule. 

“Thank you for letting me know, Alex.” 

Alex drove back to Roswell slowly, light clouds of the morning having overcast the sky while he was meeting his father. A soft drizzle hit his windshield, blurring the edges of the world around him. He kept his mind blank, hitting the steering wheel in an unnamed pattern every time he was forced to slow down. 

He figured it was easiest to head straight over to the museum to meet Max. The sheriff’s department would have done their basic due diligence by now, and any indication of this case having a connection would have already been flagged by Max or Jenna so it could be _ discreetly _removed. The fact that Max even thought of bringing him in meant they had hit a brick wall, he had so far done everything in his power to keep Alex far away from Michael and his burgeoning need to have a normal life. 

He swung by a taco truck on the way to the museum, expediting the lunch session into a driving and lunch session to save some time. He was about a mile away when he got a call from Max. 

_ “Where are you?” _

“On my way to the museum.” A pause. “Did you need something?” 

_ “Just checking, I got here a little early so I decided to get started.” _voices in the background moved around as if Max was walking in an out of areas of the museum. 

“I should be there soon.” 

_ “Good because I’ve checked historical objects one through five, and we only have one hundred and twenty three more to go.” _

When Alex finally got to the museum, he was told by the stern looking curator that the wealthy guests of the museum and especially their bank accounts were fragile things easily scared off by concepts like _ death _ and _ scandal. _ So she’d appreciate it if Alex and his partner found the issue fast but quiet and got it as far away from the building as possible. 

He found Max lurking near a group of tourists, trying to step around them to get near the artefact they were admiring. He looked very ernest and about thirty seconds away from arresting everyone, so Alex hurried over to join him. 

Alex could probably guess the answer, but he asked anyways. “Evans, did you find anything?”

“Nothing yet.” Max hummed. “I mean there is definitely at least one broken piece of the ship here but nothing makes me want to walk away and disappear.” 

“That doesn’t help at all,” Alex murmured, “was there anything in the missing people’s backgrounds?”

“Nothing at all. Aguilar and Alvarez are both native residents, born and raised in New Mexico. Peterson moved here three years ago, and was raising a family in Albuquerque. Different families, different jobs, different ages and races. Nothing to indicate that someone targeted them.”

Alex stood for a moment, thinking. “What if it was just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

“I want to say yes, but three people in a row visiting the museum and disappearing doesn’t quite follow that theory. The security footage didn’t catch anything suspicious as far as Cam and I could tell, which is why I asked you here.”

“Well between you and me we should be able to make some progress.” Alex said, back in charge. “How about you go left and I’ll go right? Check in via call in fifteen minutes?” 

Max nodded, moving to walk to the opposite section of the museum and clapping Alex on the shoulder once. Alex moved to the right, circling around the large group of visitors and making his way towards the Goddard exhibit. 

The building was a low ceiling, flat construction, sprawling but easy to navigate. The stacked exhibits were like domino pieces to be navigated, one after another. Walking around the artist in residence pieces, Alex tried to remember if he ever had a chance to explore the museum as a leisure activity. His mother’s pueblo identity was well and truly lost to him, never having a chance to acknowledge the one root that could help him find a tether to this world. His identity never had a chance to be shaped by who he was. Alex was sculpted from the fears of who he could never be, lest the world or his father annihilated him. 

He was nearly at the end of the gallery when he recognized the object they were looking for. It wasn’t something alien, it was nothing like he had ever seen or felt before. The only thing he could think of was the echo of an old song, a forgotten melody barely remembered, but that wasn’t quite it. A song started and ended, it could even begin from the middle and end after a line. This, whatever _ this _was, simply...was. It had existed in the stars before Earth existed, and would go on long after the planet ceased to be. 

Alex stepped closer to the display, keeping both his arms still. Underneath the song there was something else, something he could _ almost _ hear if he closed his eyes and focused-

A loud rattling scream pierced through his brain until it is cut off with a dry, papery crunch. A smell of damp sand, stale air, and oddly _ burning _ emanates up to him - and through all of it that song keeps playing, weaving through like a silver thread. _ Come and see _ it called to Alex. _ In fire you shall be purified; in sand you will be preserved. Come to me, be purified and be saved. _

Alex opened his eyes. 

The mummified woman stood in front of him, curled into herself. The plaque at the side read _ Human female body, aged approximately 18 at the time of death. Skin and nails well preserved. Fragments of preserved glass in skull. 20 BCE - CE 100. Chetro Ketl national monument. _

His phone buzzed, and he checked to see Max calling. 

“Pueblan exhibit,” Alex said instead of a greeting. The music simmered in the back of his head, a siren song, a trigger waiting to set off as soon as Alex ceded to its call. “I found it.”

Max must have been walking over anyways because he showed up in a couple minutes. “The mummy?” he asked staring at it. 

“If you ask, I think you’ll find it was added to the exhibit four weeks ago.” Alex responded. “While there is nothing really overt here, I think the music emanating from the body clearly makes it alien.”

Max turned to stare at him like he wanted to swear out loud but couldn’t. What actually came out of his mouth was, “what music, Alex?”

“You don’t hear that?” It had been the first thing he’d noticed, and he figured Max’s senses worked almost like Michael’s, the extra-sensory beacon lighting up for them whenever in need. 

Max looked back at the mummy. “I hear absolutely nothing.”

A few things were starting to make sense. “So the effects are targeted. I don’t think the mummy itself is the source of the...whatever it is. But this woman was exposed to that source, very likely causing her death.” 

Max looked concerned. “So you’re saying she’s like a viral carrier? What exactly is it that she’s carrying?”

“The promise of redemption.” 

Max’s expression got even more troubled. “Let me guess, it involves some kind of horrific death.”

Alex chuckled. “Doesn’t it always? The song mentioned sand and fire.”

Max frowned, and grabbed Alex’s arm to walk him out of the museum, pulling his phone out with the other hand. “Chaco national park is a six hour drive from here. I guess we know where our missing people have gone.” 

“Yeah, it seems too much of a coincidence otherwise.” 

Max keeps marching Alex away from the mummy. “Ok but what’s out there in the middle of ancient Pueblan ruins?” 

“If Project Shepherd showed me anything, it’s that there are too many alien artefacts out there, and we don’t know enough. So for us to be able to say anything with confidence, I’ll need to do a _ lot _of research.” 

“You can do all that from the comfort of your cabin. Cam and I will follow up on the mummy,” Max finished for him. “By the way, if you even _ think _ about running out to Chaco, I will not hesitate to call in the cavalry.”

“Liz?”

“Isobel.” 

Alex nodded. Isobel’s brand of brash machismo and mind-warping powers was not one he would ever be able to fight. 

“Seriously though, Alex. You aren’t feeling any deep longing to abandon all hope and make like Jesus, are you?” 

Alex gave him a close mouthed smile. “No more than usual, which is not at all.” What he felt-no. His longing was not for the vast sandy terrains. Nothing so easily attained. 

Max’s demeanor shifted, and he seemed to relax a little. “I would have done it for your own good, but it wouldn’t have been pretty.”

_ Be saved. _

If only salvation were that simple. 

Before they could leave however, they had to speak to the curator and supervise the removal of the corpse to a secure storage and preservation area. Max enforced a total quarantine of the body with not even the curator allowed near it without the written consent of the Sheriff’s department. They finally left after giving both their numbers and the Sheriff’s department’s main number, and with strict instructions to call if anything happened. 

As Alex had moved to get into his car, he found his way blocked by Max. “Sorry, Alex you are coming with me.” Alex rolled his eyes but did not fight whatever mother-hen instincts had overtaken Max. He would just text Kyle to get him out later. 

About fifteen minutes into the drive, it became clear that Max was not taking him back to his cabin. “I guess you’re determined to keep me close, Deputy,” Alex sniped, closing his eyes. 

As they parked at Max’s, Michael’s truck screeched up and parked right next to them. Alex watched as Michael got out and stomped up to the house, uncaring of the now pouring rain. He and Max exchanged a look before Max got out of the car, Alex was happy to wait in the car until Max and Michael were both inside so he could make a break for it. Max probably realized the same thing because he walked over and opened the car door for Alex. 

He walked into the house trying to keep his breathing deep. He couldn’t focus on himself right now, he had to focus on the missing people. Michael Guerin wasn’t his anymore to worry about, and seeing him hunched over the kitchen counter guzzling beer was no longer Alex’s concern. 

Max, however, had other ideas. “What are you doing back here?” he asked Michael instead of bothering with a simple greeting. Maybe all brothers are idiots. 

“I’ll get outta here soon. I just needed to grab a beer and I thought I’d be alone. Why are you back already?” Michael pointedly did not look at Alex, so he in turn went over to Max’s desk and started looking at the file on the missing people. 

“Alex got whammied at the museum by whatever is making people disappear, so I need you to stay here and keep an eye on him.” Max said. “If he tries to leave, and I’m not here, I need you tackle him or something. Um, gently.”

Alex looked up from the file incredulously. “What the hell, Evans.”

Max shrugged. “Better safe than sorry, Alex.” 

Michael meanwhile was looking apocalyptic. “Whammied? What the hell does that mean Max? What did you do to Alex?” he semi-yelled, walking quickly over to where Alex was hunched over Max’s desk. Alex had to take a hasty step back before Michael touched him, unprepared for Michael’s hands on his body. 

Michael stumbled to a stop with one hand almost outstretched, then whirled back on Max. “Start. Talking.” 

Max held out his hands in a placating gesture. “Look, we didn’t know this would happen. Alex and I were looking for the source that made those people walk away from the museum and disappear into thin air. But the thing we found isn’t _ alien _ it’s...it’s something else. Alex said he could hear music.”

Michael turned back around. “_ You_,” he pointed at Alex, “start researching. And _ you, _” he glared back at Max, “go back to the station and find out what kind of pattern this is, and how long it’s been going on. I’m not letting Alex out of my sight.” 

Alex bristled at this authoritative, possessive tone. “Look Guerin, I’m right here, and I’m perfectly-”

“If you say _ fine _, I’ll strap you to that chair for the rest of the day. Sit down and get working. Max get out.” 

Max rolled his eyes and moved to leave. “You let anything happen to Alex, and I’ll tell Liz and Rosa it was your fault.”

Alex took a deep breath and pulled out his laptop. If Guerin was going to continue Max’s mother hen song and dance about keeping him safe, Alex could at least be useful and do some research. 

He looked into the museum exhibit and traced out the emails from the team that discovered that body at Chetro Ketl. According to Melissa Yazzie, the ranger on call, an unfortunate tourist accident led to the discovery of the body. A pair of young English visitors, Helen and Sara, had decided to explore Chaco almost at the end of the day when they wandered into the great house at Chetro. 

As is always the way of the universe, one fragile yet expensive iPhone fell into a crevice, and when Sara decided to retrieve it, she found herself falling through what she describes as quicksand. A few minutes of screaming and the arrival of two rangers, including Ms. Yazzie, later Sara was rescued and that’s when the four people saw a hand sticking out of the sand. 

Ms. Yazzie and her colleagues then started the process of extricating the body and cataloging it for the state government archeology team. 

Michael had come over to the desk by now, leaning over to read along with him and the closeness of his body, his heat, and his scent surrounded Alex like a glass case. He kept his breathing steady, his shoulders loose and fingers moving deftly to flip through the reports. His entire focus had narrowed down to the single screen in front of him, doing everything to avoid the unearthly gravitational pull of Michael right next to him. 

“Oh good so nothing creepy going on here,” Michael commented with a huff, and Alex almost swallowed his tongue. “Finding _ living cells _under the nails and finger skin is not something that happens when a two thousand year old mummy is discovered.” 

Alex tried to focus on his words instead of his voice and proximity. “That cannot be right. That mummy is _ not _ alive.” 

“Yeah but she’s not dead,” Michael replied, eyes scanning the screen in rapid fashion. 

“You don’t know that,” Alex retorted. 

“Fine, I’m going to see it for myself.” Michael announced and walked away. There was nothing Alex could think of that would be _ worse _than Michael being ensnared by this thing. He rushed forward, grabbing a wrist and turning Michael around. He almost tripped, eyes wide and staring at Alex like he’d never seen him before. Slowly reaching forward, he held Alex’s wrist again. 

“Alex? What?” he whispered as if in a trance, trying to hear something. And just as quickly he let go, pushing Alex’s wrist off and taking a step back. 

“Did you hear it?” Alex couldn’t help but ask. 

“No, it wasn’t letting me. It was telling me it wasn’t meant for me. Alex, this is _ definitely _ alien. I can feel it in my bones.” 

“I’ve had a program running to search the Caulfied data, let me check if there is something there.”

What there was, did’t spark joy. Fourteen Project Shepherd teams had encountered this thing since 1947, and none of them survived. The description of the team encounters at Chetro send shivers down Alex’s spine. _ It was a mistake, it was a mistake, it was a mistake. Donald got swallowed. James is dead. As soon as we caught a peek of the thing under the great house they threw themselves from the path; I heard their bodies hit the quicksand and crunch under. I will never forget that sound, nor the look on their faces as they flung themselves to their deaths. They were smiling. I could feel the beast call them but couldn’t do anything to stop it. None of our guns work, none of our technologies work, and nothing we do will ever stop it. _

Alex stopped reading and stepped away from the desk. He could hear Michael continue to click through the reports, but he just stood in the middle of Max’s living room eyes closed and nerves on fire. How many innocent soldiers had been sacrificed? How many men had been _ murdered _ by his family’s obsession with aliens? The sins of his father no longer seemed finite, the misery of the actions spreading far and wide and Alex will never be able to atone for it all. 

“Does this mean this thing can’t be killed?” Michael asked from the desk. 

“Just because there’s no record of it being done, Guerin, doesn’t mean it can’t. It might just be very, very difficult.”

“You’re going to try anyways, aren’t you?” It was yet another of Michael’s rhetorical questions. 

“Yes I am. This is my fight, and I have to finish it.” 

“Like _ hell _ Alex,” the rage in Michael’s response made Alex turn around to face him. “Like hell am I leaving you alone to do this.”

“Guerin, be serious. You have people to think about. You have Max and Isobel and Mar-”

“So? Do they mean nothing to you? Do you not think about any of them?”

“Not the way you do.”

Michael huffed in frustration. Kicked a chair. Demanded Alex stay at Max’s with Michael keeping watch _ or else Manes. _ Alex saw him call Max and tell him to stay with Liz for the night. He saw him make a call to Isobel about something he couldn’t hear, but enough to know it was about Maria. He saw him do all that and let him. Michael needed a purpose and at the moment, Alex was his purpose. 

That night, curled up on Max’s couch, Alex dreamed of the alien. Underneath the deep layer of quicksand, something rippled, undulating in soft rhythms, as if underwater. Appendages crested and disappeared, moving without ever breaking through the sand surface. The alien was sleeping, Alex realized, and its dreams created a soundwave deep under the caverns of Pueblan ruins, sinking deeper into the foundations of the Earth. 

_ Come to me, be purified and be saved. Come to me in fire and in sand. Come and be saved. _

In the darkness of very early morning all that remained in his head was the song. As he got himself ready, putting on clothes and grabbing breakfast, he realized how much this reminded him of the mornings before raids. The intensity of focus, the minimal movements, the air around him used to feel heavy, as it did again that morning. Max met them at the door before dawn, already dressed in his uniform, but only got a slight shove and a hug from Michael. “You know why, Max,” was all he said in response to the look he got.

***

The drive to Chaco should have been six hours, but they made it under four, silence around them like a bubble. They had circled around to the museum first, and now the cursed gift sat in the cab of Michael’s truck, a somber reminder of the task ahead. Michael had started out the car ride trying to start conversations, but as they got closer to Chaco National Park he got quieter and quieter, only asking Alex once to use his GPS to get them back on track. 

They had arrived mid-morning, late enough for hikers to have left but early enough for the tourist groups to show up. They walked up to the great kiva and stand at the open maw of the ruin, staring down, Alex felt a zing of adrenaline shoot down his spine. He felt his nerves settling, the old habit of warzone confidence readorned - there was going to be a battle here today. The slim margin of success did not do enough to stop him. 

Besides him Michael stood - a sentinel. His quiet held power, his words weighted with confidence. “We’ll stop it,” he said. No one but Alex could see how scared he really was. 

Alex didn’t need to add any assurances. He turned on his flashlight and entered the ruins. Their steps echoing off the leftover structure, Michael’s hands controlling the case holding the mummy, floating gently next to them. He thought about the letter he left for Kyle, letting him know he could have the cabin back only if Michael refused. How he forgave Kyle for the hurts of their childhood. He thought about the letter he left at Max’s place for Michael. Michael who - 

The song filled his mind, almost filling his senses. It was the march of his team to the humvees, the screams of his brothers and sisters in the aftermath of the IED explosions, the screech of tires - his mother’s car, Flint and Jackson’s Jeeps, Michael’s truck. 

Something gripped his wrist. Michael.

“Alex,” Michael said. Alex had apparently stopped at the entrance of the kiva step. 

“I’m okay.”

“Sure sure Alex, but you know what, I’m just going to make sure you don’t take a dive into quicksand, ok?”

At the end of the steps was the mouth of a downward spiraling cave. The air had stopped movement down here. Darkness emanated from the cave, endless like the song that filled his head. Michael’s hold on his wrist got tighter. “You okay?” 

The song was everywhere now. Alex remembered his brother, bleeding to death in his arms. He thought of Liz, returned and reunited with her family. He remembered the quiet contentment on Maria’s face as she watched her mother sit with Rosa. He thought of Kyle and Max, finally on the same page. And of Isobel, regaining her strength and her identity and a family in the process. Alex thought of all his friends moving forward, and he was so _ tired _. “No.”

Michael turned to look at him, “no?”

Alex thought of Michael - clever Michael with his sharp tongue and quick wit, his soft smile and free flowing curls. Michael who was always first to help, but last to ask for help. Michael who finally had a future ahead of him - a chance to live a normal life, and grow old, and have what Alex may never get to have. 

The song hadn’t called for Michael, and for all the failures that rested on Alex’s shoulders, he refused to let Michael be one of them. 

“No. This is as far as you go, Michael. I’m going to keep going alone and you need to turn back.”

“Alex-”

“Everything I have done has been for you. I am a better man for knowing you, Michael.”

“Alex don-”

“I love you and have always loved you. I was dying when I met you, and you saved me. And now it is my turn to save you, so please let me-”

Michael let go of his wrist, stepped back, and punched him in the face. Pain exploded across his left jaw, and he staggered back a step. “That’s _ enough _Alex. Now shut up.”

“It can’t have both of us Michael,” Alex said. The pain in his face settled into a throb. He needed to make Michael understand, he need him to _ see- _

“It’s both of us, or neither of us!” Michael yelled, then grabbed his collar and kissed him. 

The kiss was like another explosion, a supernova going off behind Alex’s eyes. The pain around his jaw had now migrated to his whole face, so after a few moments he had to step back. “Oh.”

“Do you always wait until one of us is about to die to make great romantic gestures?” he asked. 

“In my defense, I didn’t know this was how I would make _ this _gesture,” Michael replied. “I had been hanging out at Max’s for weeks now, trying to think of a way, a gesture to help me return to you.” He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry Alex, I’m sorry for breaking my promise, but if you give me a chance, I will spend the rest of our lives never looking away.” 

Alex closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. Michael was still holding onto the collar of his jacket. 

“Fine, let’s do this like we were supposed to.” He held out a hand at Michael, who took it and they both restarted their walk down the cave. 

They found a _ pool _ but it was definitely filled with sand. It stretched into the darkness of the cave, huge and immeasurable. Glass structures jutted out from the sand, and there was no going forward without stepping in. The song filled the entire space, as if woven into the fabric of the cave and the sand. 

And right there, in the gaps between the woven threads was-

He felt like walking into a pond, wading through the soft sand. Something brushed his shoulder, but that was irrelevant now. _ Come to me. _

He walked forward until he was submerged to his waist. _ In fire and sand be saved. _ The sand came up to his ribs now, and he saw flashes of the others who went before him. People who had cancers poisoning their bodies, hearing a song and following it home, where rest and peace would be all they know. 

Only Alex’s head remained above the sand now, and from a great distance a piercing whistle broke through the song. The ground beneath his feet was shaking, no it was _ moving _. Stone by stone Michael was building new ground beneath his feet. 

“Don’t you dare, Alex!” Michael stood at the edge of the sand pool, hand outstretched and face full of determination. “Don’t you fucking _ dare _!”

And suddenly his head was quiet. In the silence, Alex realized it was not possession, not a compulsion. Only a choice offered, and the choice had always been Alex’s. 

He put both his hands into the sand, and thought _ no _.

The sand shifted. Alex started walking back.

“It’s ok Guerin, stay there. Just float the bag over.” 

“I’ll be fine. It isn’t trying to kill people. It’s a healer, it’s trying to save people. I think if we ask Max to look into it, we’ll find that all the missing people were suffering from terminal diseases.” 

“Are you also…?”

“No,” Alex replied. “I’ve made my decision and it will respect that. Once we return this body to it and seal off this cave, any future disappearances should stop.” 

Michael didn’t say anything but he unzipped the bag and floated the body over to him. Alex lay the form into the sand, where a dozen shriveled appendages held her and disappeared under. 

Alex walked backwards where strong arms pulled him away, and turned him into a firm chest. Alex had never been so thankful. He laughed and kissed Michael, his happiness shining through the giddy kisses. He knew they would still talk about what just happened, what Alex said. But now he was ready for the conversation. 

Hand in hand they made their way out of the cave. The cave still sang to Alex, but it was softer now, more peaceful. It sounded like far off music in a gym, the rhythm of car machinery being worked on, the soft crackling of a late night fire. 

Michael, it always came back to Michael. As long as Michael lived and was part of this world, Alex would be by his side. 

And if one day Alex chose to return - the woman would be there waiting to welcome him. 

Ahead of him, Michael had his phone out, waving to grab a signal. 

“If we floor it, we can be back home in time for dinner,” Michael said. 

_ Home, _ Alex thought. _ Yes, home. _He smiled at Michael and walked into the daylight. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come cry about all things malex with me on [Tumblr](https://insidious-intent.tumblr.com/)


End file.
